y woods, holding it above his
head, while Fred and I sat by the fire.

''S lucky we didn't go no further,' he said, as he came in after a few
minutes. 'There's a big prec'pice over yender. Dunno how deep 't is.
Guess we'd a found out purty soon.'

He cut some boughs of hemlock, growing near us, and spread them in a
little hollow. That done, we covered them with the oilcloth, and sat
down comfortably by the fire. Uncle Eb had a serious look and was not
inclined to talk or story telling. Before turning in he asked me to
kneel and say my prayer as I had done every evening at the feet of
my mother. I remember, clearly, kneeling before my old companion and
hearing the echo of my small voice there in the dark and lonely woods.

I remember too, and even more clearly, how he bent his head and covered
his eyes in that brief moment. I had a great dread of darkness and
imagined much evil of the forest, but somehow I had no fear if he were
near me. When we had fixed the fire and lain down for the night on the
fragrant hemlock and covered ourselves with the shawl, Uncle Eb lay on
one side of me and old Fred on the other, so I felt secure indeed. The
night had many voices there in the deep wood. Away in the distance I
could hear a strange, wild cry, and I asked what it was and Uncle Eb
whispered back, ''s a loon.' Down the side of the mountain a shrill bark
rang in the timber and that was a fox, according to my patient oracle.
Anon we heard the crash and thunder of a falling tree and a murmur that
followed in the wake of the last echo.

'Big tree fallin'!' said Uncle Eb, as he lay gaping. 'It has t' break a
way t' the ground an' it must hurt. Did ye notice how the woods tremble?
If we was up above them we could see the hole thet tree hed made. Jes'
like an open grave till the others hev filed it with their tops.'

My ears had gone deaf with drowsiness when a quick stir in the body of
Uncle Eb brought me back to my senses. He was up on his elbow listening
and the firelight had sunk to a glimmer. Fred lay shivering and growling
beside me. I could hear no other sound.

'Be still,' said Uncle Eb, as he boxed the dog's ears. Then he rose and
began to stir the fire and lay on more wood. As the flame leaped and
threw its light into the tree-tops a shrill cry, like the scream of a
frightened woman, only louder and more terrible to hear brought me to my
feet, crying. I knew the source of it was near us and ran to Uncle Eb in
a fearful p